


A Bludger to The Head

by JacquiTries



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Hospital Wing, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Quidditch, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 09:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JacquiTries/pseuds/JacquiTries
Summary: You've never really liked Quidditch but maybe a certain Gryffindor keeper would change your mind?





	A Bludger to The Head

You’ve never really liked Quidditch. You have already attended quite a few games at the International Quidditch Tournament all thanks to your family but it almost always follows the same, boring, predictable pattern – whoever catches the snitch wins the game. It was absurd. Now that you’re attending Hogwarts, you didn’t think that idea would ever change. Hence, why you decided to stay with Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, awaiting any injured players to come from the very first game of the season. If memory served you right, it would have been Gryffindor vs. Slytherin.

“Thank you for helping out today, Y/N. It’s always a joy having you around.” Madam Pomfrey said as she took note of all the healing potions in her cabinet while you jotted everything down. 

“It’s a pleasure. I’ve never been fond of Quidditch anyway.”

She stopped inspecting the healing potion in her hand and turned to face you. "Oh? Where is your school spirit? Back in the day, I used to dawn my house attire complete with face paint and all! Those were the glory days."  


You chortled. "While it does sound like fun, Madam Pomfrey, I'd rather stay here in this glorious wing with you." 

"Pish-posh, sweetheart. While I do love having you here, I could handle myself quite fine. It seems I would just have to ban you from this wing come the next game." She cheekily replied.

Your laugh was cut short as a player was suddenly wheeled in by a few other students.

“Madam Pomfrey! Our keeper’s hurt. He took a bludger to the head and passed out!” One of them spat. You and Madam Pomfrey quickly assessed his injuries. Other than the bruise that was forming on the right side of his head, he was in the all clear. 

“Thank you, boys. We’ll take it from here.” Madam Pomfrey stated. As the boys left, you helped her transfer the unconscious player from the stretcher to the bed and took charge in dressing his head wound. 

While you were wrapping up the last of his bandages, the boy finally stirred. He looked up at you and stared with hooded eyes. You were about to ask him how he was doing until he mumbled, “You’re the most beautiful angel I have ever seen.” You blushed as he slowly raised his right hand to your cheek.

You couldn’t stop yourself from teasing back. “And how many other angels do you know of?”

He stopped caressing your cheek in confusion. He bolted upright. His face contorted in horror as it dawned on him on not only _what_ he has done but also _to whom_ it was done. “I- I- I-… What I meant to say was…” He covered his face with both of his hands to hide his embarrassment. 

It was safe to say this was not what he had in mind when he planned to finally speak to you in person. His life has always been about Quidditch, not noticing anything (or anyone for that matter) unrelated, until he saw you a few days ago on the courtyard before practice. You were paying no mind to the men swarming around you as you sat and kept your eyes glued to your book. Though you only gave them a smile and a wave as you left in return, all the men ate it up and, to be honest, he couldn’t blame them. He was smitten, too. He could not stop thinking about you that even his team began to notice his mind wasn’t 100% there during practice. The Weasley twins finally understood why after a bit of prodding and convinced him to put a fantastic display of keeping skills during the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin game for you to notice him. Hitting his head with a bludger and accidentally confessing to you after passing out was definitely not the plan. He sighed and slowly looked up to face you. He should at least answer your question truthfully. “In all honesty, you are the only angel I know of.”

You couldn’t help but blush even more. Though you have been showered with compliments before, this was the first time you ever believed someone has said it so sincerely.

Knowing full well you may never give him the time of day again, he used all the courage he could muster after seeing you blush and rambled, “I’m… I’m usually much better at dodging bludgers but ugh… I was trying to find you by the bleachers with no luck–”

“–Oh. I uhm… don’t usually watch the games.”

“Ah, yes! Then, I guess I was lucky enough to find you in the hospital wing? Notwithstanding getting hit by a bludger, of course… Hah.” He replied as he sheepishly ducked his head.

Weirdly enough, you found the awkward silence right after to be endearing. You placed your fingers under your chin and decided to help him out of his misery. “Hmm. I _could_ start watching your games to prevent the incident from happening again? However, I would love to know your name first.” You placed your hand in front of him for a handshake. I’m Y/N.”

You swear he could have had whiplash with how quick he jerked his head upward. He took your hand. “I- I would love that. I’m Oliver. Oliver Wood.” 

You spotted red and gold movement at the corner of your eye. “Well, Oliver Wood, while it was lovely meeting you, I believe congratulations are in order.”

He quirked up his brow. “Hmm? For what ex–“

Suddenly, he was bombarded with shouts and cheers as his teammates ran up to him. You just had enough time to weave your way out of the chaos.

“We won, cap! We won against Slytherin!” 

"Picking Harry was a damn good choice for seeker!"

“You should have seen the looks on their faces!” 

“Flint was in shatters!”

While the Gryffindor team talked over one another, Oliver met your eyes across the room and shot an apologetic smile. You couldn’t help but smile back.

Maybe Quidditch isn’t so boring after all? 

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help myself from writing a short Oliver Wood x Reader. It was too cute in my head to not write it down.
> 
> \- Jacqui


End file.
